Feeling shattered today – probably all that emoting of yesterday. Still, I’ve taken another De-stress pill, so am at least rather calmer. This morning, I have been tapping away at yesterday’s minutes and wondering if this unexpected dry spell – at least in Guildford – will last. Perhaps all this terrible rain is actually due to the final Blair moments, and once Brown comes in all will be warmth and sunshine till the curtain falls? Hmm, that’s a no then … It’s also proving to be a real bluh day – lots of moments of staring at the desk and not doing much, and not seeing where anything is going. Or if it’s going. But, heck, I should be used to those moments. Still, I’ve reorganised my fluffy pen collection a little, so it’s not been entirely wasted.
And we’re having to go to the Schools for the loo, as Roots café is entirely cut off now. I think tomorrow I’ll bring my own potty just in case …
It’s the next UniSWriters meeting at lunchtime, and I panicked this morning, thinking oh lordy I haven’t worked out what exercise we might do. But I have found a couple that might work, and will see how we go in terms of manuscripts as to which one we do. They do seem to like writing games, and we get a lot out of them. I hope. Actually, in the event, as the group was so small, we dealt with manuscripts only – which were great! – but I gave them a version of one of the games for homework. I’ll see what happens next session.
Oh and the men came along to fix my blind (it takes three of them apparently ...) and moved my fluffy pen collection in order to get to the window. Unfortunately they brought the wrong size blind, so all that excitement for nothing. Goodness knows when we'll see them again. So I have moved my fluffy pen collection back to their normal places. Lordy but what an action-packed life I lead.
Tonight, I’m supposed to be playing golf with Marian (depending on the weather), but am feeling so wiped out that I honestly wouldn’t mind just flopping instead. My eyes are so tired they’re actually prickling. But the exercise and fresh air etc etc will probably do me good. Ho ho. I’m sounding more like my grandmother every day … And what a harridan she was! In the event, golf was good - very up and down, but I did manage to get a par at the fourth, hurrah!
And there's more good news - I have finally solved the problem of my sore underarms. I thought it was heat rash, but I now realise it's this new Tesco "Reactive" deodorant they've just brought out. It's a nightmare for me!! So I've brought some others without the dreaded word "Reactive" on the label, and now all is sweetness and light. Have had to throw away six bottles of the "Reactive" stuff though. Not that I'm a compulsive hoarder with BO, you understand ... Not with that amount of deodorant anyway!
I also think I've solved the problem of why yesterday was so particularly horrid: I'd forgotten to tear off the calendar page on our page-a-day calendar in the morning. So we were still stuck in a virtual Sunday until I came home. Goodness me, the power my personal obsessions have - it's astonishing really.
I’m also beginning to think I might try my hand at another short story sometime – might give me a change from struggling away at the novel. I think I need to put more enjoyment back into the writing process. And sod what may (or most likely may not) happen afterwards in terms of the publication game. Again, we’ll see.
For now, here’s a piece of flash fiction, written for the Writewords (http://www.writewords.org.uk) Flash Fiction II group – the remit is to write something including shop windows and a powerful emotion:
Brad pressed his face to the window. He could see so many things inside to buy and eat that it was all he could do not to race through the door, thrusting the impatient queue of shoppers to one side, and plunge into the middle of the display. Today there were shining éclairs packed to the brim with cream, coffee gateaux to die for, doughnuts whose middles oozed with bright red jam and – his personal favourites – chocolate brownies throbbing with rich darkness.
Before he knew it, his tongue was out and his breath smearing the glass. He could almost taste the chocolate. Certainly he could smell it. Ah bliss indeed! Really, he could do this every day. And indeed, that’s what he did. Every day, come his 10.30 break, he’d be here. At the only –and the best! – bakery in town, gobbling up all the scents and flavours of the morning.
After all, how else was he supposed to decide what to have for lunch? What would it be then? Doughnuts? He couldn’t have his favourites every day. No matter how much he loved them. Hmm, brownies … But no! Be strong, Brad, be strong. He’d choose the brownies tomorrow. A midweek treat. But today, his lunch would be …
… éclairs! Yes, perfect for a Tuesday. It would be éclairs.
Brad gave a deep and satisfied sigh just as the customer at the very end of the queue, who happened to be Mr Arnold from Number 42, peered round the door.
‘’Ere,’ Mr Arnold said, ‘have you finished choosing then, Brad?’
‘Yip,’ said Brad, straightening himself up and smoothing down his overalls. ‘I certainly have!’
‘Good,’ the old man grumbled. ‘Then you can come back in and serve us then, can’t you?’
And oh for an early night! I soooo desperately need one.
Today’s nice things:
3. Happy underarms!